


A Bad Idea (But My Plans Are Awesome)

by Tahlruil



Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Everyone Lives/Nobody Dies, Alternate Universe - No Hale Fire, Alternate Universe - No Werewolves, Fake/Pretend Relationship, Fluff and Humor, How Do I Tag, M/M, Meet the Family, Misunderstandings, Morally Ambiguous Peter Hale, Originally Posted on Tumblr, POV Alternating, Peter is Not 'Nice', Sheriff Stilinski's Name is John, Shut Up Scott, Single Parent Peter Hale, So Is Peter, Stiles Makes Good Plans Dammit, Thanksgiving Dinner, The Sheriff is a Troll, Tumblr Prompt, the SHERIFF KNOWS
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-01-20
Updated: 2018-05-31
Packaged: 2019-03-07 02:12:53
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 15,225
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13424538
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Tahlruil/pseuds/Tahlruil
Summary: Stiles doesn't really know how he gets himself into these things. His plans have always been great, no matter what Scott thinks - it's just that sometimes there are consequences. Little things, like his dad thinking that Stiles has a boyfriend with a daughter that he's been seeing for over a year. That should have been fine, since Stiles has been in Virginia for FBI training. It's not like the Sheriff would everknow. Unless, of course, Stiles was stupid enough to promise to have them visit for Thanksgiving.At least he'd come a week early and said his boyfriend wouldn't show up until a day before Thanksgiving - it gave him room to plan and panic.Peter was honestly just shopping with his daughter for books. It's not his fault he finds Stiles both amusing and attractive.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

  * For [GracieBirdie](https://archiveofourown.org/users/GracieBirdie/gifts).



> So there was this prompt on Tumblr, which is [here](https://mommalosthermind.tumblr.com/post/168344723789/anyone-remember-that-christmas-movie-with-eric). I immediately thought of Steter, but I had Stiles as the single dad in need of a family. GracieBirdie suggested one where Peter was the dad, and I was like 'oooh, I could write that too'.
> 
> I have like, six versions of this prompt in my head from about three different fandoms, you don't even know.
> 
> But this is the one I started first, and today I cleaned it up and figured I'd post it. :D
> 
> Thanks for reading!! <3 I haven't been responding to comments lately because I'm socially drained, but I still getting them. :'D

"Okay, but just listen to me for just a second--"

"Whatever it is, I don't wanna know. It's always better if I don't know."

"Scott. Scotty my boy. You're not _listening_. Shhhhh. Shut your adorable, dumb mouth and just... shhhhhh. Listen."

"Stiles--"

"Ababababa! No. _Listen_. I am in so... so much trouble. This might be worse than the time we thought it was a good idea to go out looking for that dead body."

"Uh, _you_ thought that was a good idea. I thought you were crazy and I only went along with it because--"

"That's not the point!" Peter had no idea who was panicking around the corner of the bookshelf he was browsing, but they were amusingly distressed. For some reason he was absolutely sure that the unknown man was flailing his limbs as he spoke, and he was tempted to take a peek to see if he was right.

Eavesdropping, however, was far more interesting when the potential of getting caught was low.

"The point is that in an effort to make my dad stop worrying about me - and why is he worrying anyway, I've been taking care of him for years and he's the one with the heart problem, but nooooo, I'm the one who obviously needs a keeper, whatever, it's fine. Where was I? Oh! To get him off his 'you need to learn responsibility and also I worry about how alone you are out in Virginia', I started telling him I was seeing someone."

"... Stiles. You know your dad doesn't like it when you lie."

"I know, I know. I just. He's got so much else to worry about, and it seemed to help. Um. Especially since I said I was dating a. Uh. A guy with a kid."

"That made him feel _better_?"

"Dude, nothing screams responsibility more than being a parent. I mean, a good one. And like, I don't have to be, you know? So that's double the responsible and steady points I earned. I didn't give a lot of details - my boyfriend is super private, especially when it comes to his daughter, and it's been a 'new' relationship that I didn't want to jinx."

"How long has it been new?"

"Almost a year."

"Why do you always do this to yourself?"

"Scott. My dear naive little strumpet."

"Did you just call me a prostitute?"

"Details! Anyway. That was all just background story, Scotty. You haven't even heard the worst part."

The man in the next aisle over was incredibly dramatic, and it was incredibly hard for Peter to keep himself from laughing. He was also just a little bit intrigued, though he would never admit it to anyone. The man clearly cared about his father, which was something Peter could appreciate. Family was important, after all. And he'd been more than willing to say he was dating someone with a child - a daughter, specifically. 

Part of him couldn't help but wonder if the man would be so eager to do the same for real; it was hard to find anyone who was, Peter had discovered. Maybe he should take a peek after all, and if the man was attractive and didn't give off a creepy vibe, he could see if this 'Stiles' would be interested in going out for coffee.

Just to keep him from having to lie to his father, of course. Peter was oh-so interested in keeping families together and bettering the lives of others.

"Stiles, did you... you wouldn't. There is no way you would. Please tell me you didn't promise to bring them to meet your dad for Thanksgiving."

"... he asked, I panicked, and then things were bad."

"Stiles."

"I know. Gah. The Sheriff is gonna kill me."

"No, he's going to give you that 'I'm so disappointed that my son is so comfortable lying to me' look, and that's way worse. It even makes _me_ feel guilty, and I'm usually only an unwilling accomplice to your dumb plans."

"Dude. You love my plans."

"That might be exaggerating just a little."

"Daddy?" Peter's concentration on the drama unfolding an aisle away was broken when Malia tugged firmly on his sleeve. "I found what I wanted." His daughter's level, frank eyes searched his face, and then she sighed - a sound far too like the ones Talia made exclusively when he was disappointing her. "Are you doing something you aren't supposed to?"

"Of course not, sweetheart. I am being a paragon, a model of good behavior," he said with a smile, pleased when she gave a snort that was more reminiscent of him than his sister. "You wound me."

"Whatever. I found my books and I wanna go."

When he looked down at the rather heavy load in her hands, Peter had to bite back a sigh of his own. The work Derek and Laura were doing to reintroduce wolves to California was wonderful, but Malia's obsession with the animals was getting a bit out of hand. In addition to 'Julie and the Wolves' and 'White Fang', she also held two reference books on the animals that he _knew_ were above her reading level and three slimmer books that she would probably be able to get through by herself or with his help.

Not that he'd tell her 'no' to any of them. To have her expressing interest in anything after the fiasco with her mother was too new and thrilling.

"Wait, one of these is about coyotes," he said when he took the lot from her. Peter didn't realize he was frowning thoughtfully until he looked down at his daughter to find her scowling up at him. He bit his lips against a vicious curse at his own stupidity, then gave Malia an encouraging smile. "Coyotes are just as interesting as wolves, I'm sure. If you'd like you can even go get another book about them."

"... really? That's not too many?"

"I think I can swing it," he said, rolling his eyes. It wasn't as if they were hurting for money, after all. Though apparently her _mother_ had given poor Malia a few ideas about being too greedy while the awful woman had her claws sunk into his little girl. "Go. No better way to break the bank."

The force of Malia's smile was almost enough to blind him, which meant he'd done the right thing. It was hard not to feel smug as she skipped away to grab more conveniently packaged knowledge. When he'd gotten her back after the last custody dispute, Peter had doubted she would ever smile like that again.

Now smiling himself, he began to examine the books as he drifted down the aisle to head slowly toward the front counter. A few steps later, however, he had the feeling that someone was in front of him and came to a stop. When he looked up, he found himself gazing into eyes the color of whiskey.

It was a few moments later before he took in the rest of the package, but when he finally had Peter found himself approving. The moles dotting the man's pale skin made his fingertips itch to touch, and Peer also found himself wanting to run his hands through the man's thick (if slightly disheveled) black hair. He dressed like a teenager, the mystery man who was staring down at him (by perhaps two inches) with hope. Still, that didn't ruin the complete package, so Peter was willing to forgive his awful fashion sense.

"Hey," the man greeted, sounding awkward as he ran a hand through that same hair Peter wanted to card his fingers through. It was, Peter realized, the 'Stiles' he had heard talking before. "So. Uh. I have this really... _really_ strange question. And maybe a proposition? Hear me out!" he added hurriedly, throwing up both his hands like he thought Peter might run off. "I just, uh, happened to overhear--"

"Stiles," came the other voice from before. A man about Stiles' age made his way into the same aisle, looking both exasperated and disapproving. He gave off the impression of being both endearingly earnest and perhaps just a little bit dumb. "Eavesdropping is rude. And you can't just--"

"Scott. Scotty my boy. If I listened to you and your rules to existing in so-called 'polite society', I would have died of boredom before I turned twelve, okay? So just do the thing we talked about earlier and hush. My plans are good plans, yours are not. So shush and let me work. How would you feel about doing a little acting for some extra cash?" Stiles asked Peter, rounding on him again.

Peter couldn't help but blink at that, because what on earth was Stiles talking about? He looked down at himself, and sure he wasn't in his best clothes - he and Malia had been working with Derek and Laura. It was a dirty, sweaty job and so he had dressed himself and his daughter accordingly. Still, he didn't think he looked _destitute_ or anything of the sort. Why would Stiles think he needed money?

Oh. _Oh_.

He'd been listening in as rudely as Peter had, and he had jumped to some incorrect assumptions. If Peter were nicer, he would clue Stiles in immediately. If he were a little less manipulative he would have admitted to eavesdropping earlier himself and offered to help Stiles out out of the goodness of his heart. If he didn't find the whole thing so damned amusing, he might even have just asked Stiles out on a date so it could all be real right from the beginning.

But Peter wasn't _nice_. He'd never claimed to be.

So instead of doing the 'right' thing, he just gave Stiles the most charming smile he could muster. "A proposition, hm?" he asked in a purr, feeling smug again when he saw Stiles' jaw go a little slack and his pupils dilate. He was less pleased by the way the other one - Scott - made a disgusted noise then turned to walk away. "Do tell me more."

~.~.~

Maybe the diner hadn't been the right place to meet Peter, Stiles realized as he tried his hand at making a little building out of sugar packets and the creamer and jam tubs. It was going a lot better than he'd expected, which was... something. Susan, who had worked there since before his mother died, kept giving him indulgent smiles. She'd also been keeping him in curly fries for the past half hour as he waited and worried.

Showing up early had been a mistake, and choosing the diner had been one too. Now the place was always going to remind him of this, a low point in his life. Not _the_ low point, unfortunately, but still. This had not been his best or smartest plan. The fact that Peter had agreed meant the guy was probably really in need of the money Stiles had offered, and God, his poor little girl. They hadn't been in rags or anything, but their clothes had been dirty and worn. When Peter had agreed to spend money on just one more extra book, Stiles had felt himself melt to goo.

A dad blowing more money than he could afford on books to make his kid smile? That was apparently Stiles' kink, and Scott was a bad friend for trying to shame him for it.

The guy was apparently a good dad _and_ sexy enough to push a lot of his other buttons. To meet him at the diner that had become one of his safe places after his mother passed was just not a good idea. Now, no matter how things turned out, this place would always remind him of Peter and a little girl with fierce eyes, and a plan that really wasn't one of his best. After this all went down, the diner might not be safe anymore.

Stiles didn't realize how hyper-focused he'd become on his growing structure until a hand that wasn't his tried to add to it. Giving a manly sound of surprise - he definitely didn't like, yelp or anything - Stiles jerked away and sent his project tumbling down to the table. There was no time to be crushed though, because that was Peter sitting across from him, somehow managing to look wicked and guilty at the same time.

"Oh dear, forgive me for startling you Stiles. I thought you knew I was here."

"Wha--" Peter had been there long enough that he had a mug of coffee sitting in front of him, which meant Stiles was a moron. "Sorry?"

"Don't be," he said with a smile, waving Stiles' apology away with one hand. "It was an impressive building. I am sorry I made you ruin it - I was trying to shore up one of the sides."

"... you were trying to help me build my tower of diner condiments?"

"Yes?"

"... wanna help me build it again while we wait for your food?"

"I suppose I could be persuaded, though I hadn't intended to order anything."

"I'll pay for your food!" Stiles offered quickly, already sorting the packets and the different tubs. This time when Peter reached into help, he shot the older man a smile instead of ruining everything. "I had planned on it anyway. You at least have to get curly fries and maybe a chocolate milkshake. They're both to die for, especially when you dip your fries into the milkshake which sounds gross, but oh my God. If I'm ever on death row, that's going to be my last meal."

"How charming," Peter said, and Stiles was pretty sure he was teasing. "My boyfriend has plans for what to do when he faces the death penalty."

Of course Stiles' hands chose that moment to go a little spastic again, scattering the pink sugar packets until they mixed with the blue and white ones, which could really ruin the aesthetic that he wanted to aim for. "Boyfriend!" Stiles was pretty sure he wasn't imagining the way he sounded kind of hysterical. "Right. Boyfriend. That's me. I'm yours. With the dating and the kissing and stuff. Maybe the sex? Are we a sex having couple?"

"I would be _incredibly_ disappointed if we weren't."

It wasn't fair, the way Peter could purr when he spoke. His stupid goatee on that stupidly beautiful face wasn't fair either. And the v-neck shirt he was wearing, the one that clung to Peter's frame just right and showed off just the right amount of chest, the one that made Stiles want to lick the guy's neck? It was probably the most unfair thing of all.

"Uhhhhh..."

"Unless you don't want to be having sex," Peter said, speaking normally again. He even flashed Stiles a genuine smile, which made sorting the sugar packets difficult for another brief moment. "I find it quite enjoyable, but it's not necessary to make a relationship work. So if you'd rather we be a couple that doesn't have sex, that's fine. We'll just assume that I spend a good amount of time in the shower taking care of my... needs instead."

Whatever noise escaped Stiles just then was probably really embarrassing, but he couldn't think about that. Not when he could picture Peter in the shower, all sudsy and... and doing _things_. He knew he was staring, and he was pretty sure his mouth was open - which was good, because at least that way he looked like a _complete_ moron instead just half of one - but he felt frozen. It wasn't until he felt warm hands settle over his own that he even blinked again.

"Stiles darling? Breathe." Like a dog trained to heel, Stiles sucked in a deep breath and nearly choked on it. That kick-started him again, and started breathing the way a normal human person would, because he was totally normal. Definitely. "Good job beautiful," Peter said, his thumb brushing over the inside of Stiles' wrist.

Stiles felt himself start to blush as he sank down a little in the booth, embarrassed and pleased and just a little confused. "Uhm. I'm not... uh." Peter was clearly crazy or half-blind, because Stiles was a lot of things but 'beautiful' was not one of them. He might get to 'cute' on days when he actually tried, but... yeah. He was not super attractive, and _definitely_ not to people as gorgeous as Peter. "We can, uh. Be a couple that has, you know. The sex. I haven't ever had sex with a guy though, so we probably shouldn't talk about our sex life with anyone because I'd probably get things wrong--"

"I hadn't exactly planned on telling your father all the different ways we ravish each other," Peter said while rolling his eyes. He gave Stiles' wrist one last almost tender caress, then pulled his hands away. "Besides, I'm rather private about that sort of thing. Well, I _do_ enjoy a bit of PDA, but there are limits. We do need to talk about that, however."

"What?"

"How comfortable you are with me touching you."

"Oh. And if you're good with me touching you too, Peter. I don't want to make you uncomfortable."

"You're the one paying me, remember?"

"Don't make it sound gross," Stiles pleaded. He knew that it kind of was, but still. "I won't pressure you into doing _anything_ , swear to God. Honestly if we held hands and maybe did some cheek kisses, we'd be good. And is it okay if I hug Malia and hold her hand sometimes too? Or no? I don't want to make you feel weird and I _definitely_ do not want to make a little girl uncomfortable or be all up in her space without your permission and hers."

Peter was looking at him funny, and Stiles wasn't really sure how to read the look. He felt like he was being scrutinized, maybe, but there might have been a bit of warmth too? Maybe? Hopefully?

"I'll talk to Malia about it, see what she says. I think we should have a 'date', all three of us, before we meet your father. Maybe even a few - I'm more than capable of playing the role, but she'll need to get to know you before she's even willing to really smile."

"Dates? Me you and the sprout? Yeah, sure, awesome. We can definitely do that. Uh. By the way. If she's not cool with this, I can still pay you for your time but call it off. Because I didn't really think about how this might affect her, because apparently I suck. She doesn't deserve to get pulled into this and get hurt, you know?"

"Malia is both intelligent and pragmatic," Peter said with a shrug of his shoulders. "After the divorce... well. At first she spent time with both of us equally, but then my _absolute bitch_ of an ex managed to get nearly full custody of her for over a year. I still don't have all the details, but things there were... difficult. Malia had to grow up fast with her in New York."

Seeing the way Peter was clenching his hands, Stiles hesitated for just a few seconds before reaching out. Touching was supposed to be okay, and Peter had done it first anyway, so Stiles was only a little nervous when he settled his hands over Peter's. "Sounds like a really shitty situation," he said quietly, catching and holding Peter's eye. "So look, if you don't want to bring her into this, I don't blame you. I don't want to make things harder or worse for her. Selling my lie to pops isn't worth hurting her."

When Peter turned one hand over to tangle their fingers together, Stiles felt his cheeks go kinda warm again. He didn't pull away though, because they needed to be able to touch each other if they ended up doing the thing where they lied. To Stiles' father. Who was the Sheriff and could absolutely check into their story if he didn’t buy it 100%.

This was such a bad idea.

"It was a terrible situation," Peter told him, looking down at their joined hands. "But it made her strong and adaptable. Most of the time. There are things... ah. Anyway, I'll probably tell her exactly what's going on. Then once we have our dates with all three of us, she can make the decision herself if she wants to be involved. If she doesn't, she can spend some time with my niece and nephew, and we'll tell your father that my daughter had to spend time with her mother's family or something. Is that acceptable?"

"Hmm? Yeah. Absolutely." Peter still had not let go of his hand, and now he was even kind of playing with Stiles' fingers. It was a little distracting and a lot nice. His hands were pretty soft, with only a few callouses here and there - he figured Peter used to have a cushy job and he'd been laid off recently. That would explain everything, and really it was pretty lucky that Peter was exactly what he needed and he could give Peter something he needed in return. It was just pretty damn perfect.

"Are you and your _friend_ ready to order, Stiles?" Susan put way too much emphasis on the whole 'friend' thing, but Stiles couldn't really blame her. Not when Peter was still toying with his fingers and he was blushing like a crazy person. She knew him well enough that she was allowed to tease him about things like that.

"I think we both want a chocolate milkshake and some fresh curly fries. Stiles assures me that I'll find both delicious." Peter was a handsome, charming bastard - Susan practically giggled when he smiled at her, which no.

"Excuse you, boyfriend," Stiles teased, going so far as to gently but audibly kick Peter's shin. "Don't flirt with Susan that way. You'll only break her heart and she's too good for you anyway."

"Awww, that's real sweet Stiles. You're still not getting extra curly fries," she said as she grabbed the plate with the cold remains of his last order. "So two chocolate milkshakes and some curly fries? Got it. Either of you need any more coffee?"

"No thank you, Susan. We're too busy trying to construct a feat of modern engineering from paper and plastic to really drink anything right now."

Peter _winked_ , and yeah he was gonna have to talk to the guy about not doing the flirting thing with other people. Stiles knew himself well enough to admit that he was a jealous man. Having even a fake boyfriend flirt with other people was definitely a no-go.

They could talk about that later though, because Peter had finally let go of his hand and gone for the tubs of jelly instead. Him being willing to build random shit with Stiles was another check in Stiles' list, and it really wasn't fair. He didn't even mind the way Peter began to immediately boss him around, taking over the project almost completely. Peter had some pretty good ideas when it came to building towers out of diner materials, after all. Besides - he looked really, _really_ hot while he ordered Stiles around.

This was such a bad idea.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Guys, I have this really awkward [Tumblr](http://tahlreth.tumblr.com) where I reblog stuff and post fics sometimes. You should like, stop by and say hi, maybe drop me a prompt because I need ideas for things to write for the 15-30 minute writing bursts I've been trying to do every day. :'D
> 
> Thanks again for reading!


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So I kind of have Fridays blocked off as my day to post Steter stuff now, but I started writing this and couldn't stop, so it's finished. I'm bad at sitting on my writing, so I'm gonna throw it up now instead. XD
> 
> Thanks for reading! :D

Stiles was clearly practiced at selling a lie to his father, and Peter found himself rather impressed. The night before their 'date', Stiles texted him an address that was not only outside of Beacon Hills, but also out of Beacon County altogether. The distance made it extremely unlikely that anyone would run into them and either realize that they weren't a 'real' couple or that Peter and his daughter were already in town.

Malia wasn't impressed with the length of the car ride, but when she started to complain he handed a snack and one of her books back to her. It was enough to placate her, and she was absorbed in reading about coyotes the rest of the way. Until they neared their destination, anyway, which was when she set her book aside and began to bounce in her seat. "Is there really laser tag, daddy? And games?"

Peter looked up into the rear view mirror and smiled at her before turning his attention back to the road. "According to Stiles and their website, yes. We can get food too--"

"Do they have venison?" she asked hopefully. Peter bit back a laugh, then shook his head. Most children her age wanted pizza or chicken fingers, but not his little girl. He loved her all the more for her quirks though, and made a note to himself to have venison for dinner soon.

"Probably not, sweetheart. We'll look, but it's very likely you'll have to pick something else," he told her honestly. She did better when she was prepared for possible disappointment, even if just then it made her scowl fiercely. When she kicked the back of his seat though, he lifted a brow at her in the mirror and she instantly switched to a pout.

"Why doesn't anyone serve venison?"

"Some places do, but most of them aren't exactly child friendly."

"I could behave in a grownup restaurant. Tell Stiles that if we have another date it has to be at a grownup restaurant where they have venison. But I'm not wearing a dress or putting my hair up. Okay? Tell him."

"Why don't you tell him? You're the one who's deciding if we're all going to have another date together," he pointed out as he flicked on his turning signal. He could see what looked like the... charming jeep that belonged to Stiles already in the parking lot, so he pulled in close to it. Sure enough, his date for the day was in the front seat, tapping away at his phone and bopping his head to music.

"He probably won't listen if I tell him because I'm just a kid. You tell him so he knows we mean it. Is that him?" she asked, turning her head in the same direction as Peter's. "Daddy."

"What?"

"I thought he was going to be old like you. I don't think you're allowed to date people that young."

"Excuse you, I am not _old_. I am in the prime of my life," he said, pretending offense and exaggerating how hurt he was. That drew a giggle out of her, which had him smiling as he took the key out of the ignition. "Also, he isn't that much younger than me. He mentioned he's training to be in the FBI, so he must be at least in his early twenties. So there." No one who knew him would believe the way he stuck his tongue out at Malia in the window - it wasn't exactly in character.

Malia brought out a softer, sillier side of him; she always had. She stuck her tongue out right back as they both unbuckled. Stiles was still oblivious to their arrival even when they'd gotten out of the car and strolled over to the jeep, another thing that his daughter seemed to find unimpressive. She shot Peter a flat look, and she was the one to stand on her toes so she could knock on the window. Stiles jerked in surprise hard enough that he fumbled his phone. Malia giggled as she watched it fall to the floor of the jeep because she had inherited her sense of humor from him. She was still on her toes, hands resting on the jeep’s door when Stiles finally looked over at them.

The beaming smile he gave when he saw Peter was a wonderful boost to a man's ego. Peter thought he might feel like ripping out the throat of anyone besides him who got that smile. He was just a tad possessive even of things that were only temporarily his, like their relationship. He hoped Stiles wouldn't mind.

Stiles had to wind the window down by hand, because his disaster of a jeep was just that old. Malia wouldn't be allowed in it, Peter decided. Not unless Stiles let him send it to a shop to have quite a bit of work done on it. Since that would ruin his cover as a poor man, he probably shouldn't offer.

"Hey! Sorry, I didn't know you were here."

"We noticed," Malia said with a sniff. Stiles turned red which was a good look on him - Peter would love to know how far down that flush went. Despite how much he appreciated it, however, he had to put on a frown when he looked down at his daughter.

"That was rude."

"It was the truth."

"Well sometimes the truth is rude to say out loud."

"You say rude truths all the time."

"I'm a terrible role model. Pick another - like Derek."

"Then I wouldn't be able to say anything at _all_."

"Exactly. Hello Stiles," he said smoothly, settling his hands on her shoulders. Stiles looked a bit bewildered at the byplay, but he regained his smile easily enough. "This is my daughter Malia, and I apologize in advance for any future 'rude truths' that leave her mouth." Peter gave Malia's shoulders a light squeeze - she immediately tipped her head back and stuck her tongue out at him again.

Well, she was a work in progress. Peter was just grateful that she was finally throwing off the influence of her mother enough to be a little silly. He should probably be more firm with her than he was sometimes, but he'd rather have a spunky and sometimes rude daughter than one who was a scowling shadow.

"Don't worry about it, she was right. Sometimes I get a little absorbed in what I'm doing, and the other half of the time I can't focus on anything. It's fun. It's also nice to meet you, Malia. Think I could get out of my car, or do you want to start an interrogation?" Thankfully Stiles was obviously teasing, so Malia didn't shrink away.

"Inter'gation," she told him, stumbling a little on the word. "Daddy, lift me up so I can be a cop." Rolling his eyes, Peter did as he was told and lifted her until she was at Stiles' eye level. "License and reg'stration."

"Wow, you've got this down. Most intimidating officer I've ever seen too. You could make real criminals tremble in fear with those eyes of yours." Malia giggled, clearly pleased, then seemed to school herself again. Stiles indulged her by passing over his license, though he didn't go for his registration papers. Peter had a strong feeling that Stiles might not even have them on him. "What's the charge, officer?"

"Dating my daddy without my permission," Malia said instantly, grabbing hold of Stiles' license. That made Stiles blush again as he tried to splutter out an explanation. Malia held up a hand to stop him, and Peter knew his daughter's sharp eyes would be taking in as much information from the license as she could. "Even fake dating needs my say-so. And you took us to a place that doesn't got venison. Rude."

"I didn't know you wanted venison," Stiles said weakly, eyes wide. "Next time, okay? If there is a next time, which there totally doesn't have to be. I mean, that first charge is pretty serious, so if you decide you don't wanna hang out anymore that's cool. So cool. But I know a couple places that have it, so we can definitely go for that if you want to later, uh... hey, can I ask a question officer?"

"Mm-hmm," Malia hummed as she handed his license back. "But if it's dumb I'm giving you another charge."

"Fair," Stiles agreed, humor in his expression. Peter felt a bit of tension he hadn't known he had been carrying leave his shoulders. The pair of them would get along fine for at least the day. He wasn't sure what Malia would decide at the end of the date, but at least this wasn’t likely to be a total disaster. "Is it okay if I call you anything other than Malia or officer? I'm probably gonna drop into a nickname or two pretty quick, but if you don't think you'll be cool with that then I won't."

Peter felt an embarrassing amount of gratitude and fondness toward Stiles just then. His 'boyfriend' had shown a continuous habit of treating Malia with respect. He acknowledged that she had her own agency and seemed very concerned with making sure he had her consent. It was ridiculously attractive in a way Peter never would have anticipated a few years ago. His daughter tipped her head to the side, considering, and Stiles didn't even try to hurry her along.

"Case by case basis," she finally decreed, then kicked one foot back to catch Peter lightly in the knee. "Inter'gation's over and he's innocent for now. Put me back down please."

"Yes your highness," he said dryly, making Malia giggle and Stiles grin. He set Malia off to one side before opening Stiles' door himself. They had both laid out their boundaries and agreed to respect them in the diner, so Peter didn't hesitate to lean down and steal a quick kiss from Stiles. For a moment the younger man only gaped, blinking rapidly - Peter already knew that when that happened it meant Stiles was trying to process.

He seemed to reboot quickly though, hopping out of the jeep with a smile. "Okay! Lack of venison aside, are we ready to have some fun, wolf-eyes?" A huge grin broke over Malia's face, and she nodded eagerly. "Awesome. First though, I brought something for you because bribes are an important part of most relationships. Which I should probably not, you know, say to a kid. Could you pretend that I didn't?"

"If I like my bribe," she said with a shrug of one shoulder. Peter was very proud of her more mercenary traits. From the way Stiles started to laugh, he thought his fake-boyfriend liked that side of her too.

"You're ruthless and I approve. Here ya go!" Stiles leaned back into his car and snagged whatever he had brought for Malia. "I, uh, saw the books your dad was holding in the bookstore," he said, looking a little shifty as he danced around the way he had been eavesdropping. "And there were a lot that had to do with wolves but only one on coyotes. So I figured maybe I could help round out your collection a little."

Peter felt that same swell of fondness when Stiles handed Malia a small stack of books that were not only about coyotes but also age appropriate. Malia actually _squealed_ , which was something Peter very rarely heard out of her. She went to take the books eagerly, but just before her fingers touched them she came to an abrupt stop. The glee on her expression melted to one of uncertainty, maybe even fear, and Peter would happily murder her mother if he thought he could get away with it.

"Is it okay, daddy?" she asked, putting a knife through his heart. Ignoring Stiles for the moment, Peter crouched down to Malia's level and gently turned her to face him. She ducked her head rather than look into his eyes, scuffing the toe of one sneaker over the ground.

"Hey," he started, making sure not a single hint of the fury he felt towards her mother escaped. Using his right hand he cupped her chin and carefully tipped her head up until their eyes met. "You are allowed to have things," he said quietly. "You are _not_ greedy, sweetheart, and you aren't stealing anything from anyone. Stiles brought you a present because he wanted to, and if you want to accept it you can. If you find the bribe unacceptable," he said with a smile, pleased at the way her lips twitched a little as well. "Then you can refuse it. But I personally think it's a wonderful present and that you should take it. We'll have to put them in the car for now though so they don't get lost."

Malia hesitated for a few seconds, searching his eyes. She was good at spotting signs of deception, even if she didn't always pick up on other social cues. Finally she nodded and gave him a quick kiss on the cheek before pulling away and turning back to Stiles. "Thank you," she said quietly, reaching for the books again. Stiles, who was quick to change his heartbroken expression to a smile, handed them over easily.

"You're very welcome. Most of them are about coyotes, but I slipped in one about foxes too," he said with a wink. Malia didn't giggle but she did shoot him a shy smile as she hugged the books to her chest. "They're my favorite, so I figured it couldn't hurt."

"Why don't you go put them in the car, sweetheart," Peter said gently, handing over the keys. Their car was only two spots down and he had a clear view - he also wanted to have a quick word with Stiles, whose eyes were still sad. "Then we'll go in and have some fun." Malia nodded and headed for the car, a bit of a bounce re-entering her step.

"Her mother was a fucking bitch," Peter said quietly, viciously as soon as she was out of earshot. "Once she had full custody of Malia, she changed for the worse.. She apparently was always insisting to Malia that she was stealing from her - she gave my daughter the barest basics and made her feel like shit for 'taking' that much. Malia still has a hard time accepting things that people give her sometimes."

He didn't look over at Stiles as he spoke, keeping his eyes trained on his daughter. After a moment he heard Stiles shut the jeep door and then came to stand beside him. Fingers tangled with his and squeezed, and Peter let his lips curve upward in a tiny smile. Thankful for the offered comfort even if it did very little to douse his fury, Peter squeezed back.

"I'm pretty sure I wouldn't get caught if I killed her," Stiles offered idly. "And as you know I've got my last meal all planned out in case I did."

"That is incredibly tempting, but I should say no."

"I notice that you didn't. Just send me her address if you decide you want me to go for it."

"Thank you Stiles." Malia was almost back, so Peter felt safe to look away and he turned toward Stiles. Oh so accommodating without even knowing it, Stiles looked back at him, which made it easy to catch Stiles' mouth in a longer, sweeter kiss. Stiles let out a small noise of surprise, but a heartbeat later he was kissing back, lips uncertain under Peter's.

"Stop being gross," Malia demanded, breaking the moment. Stiles immediately pulled away, cheeks turning that delicious pink as he let go of Peter's hand. "Only little kisses in front of me, 'cause ew." Peter rolled his eyes but accepted the keys when she passed them over. "Can we go in now? I'm hungry and I want to play laser tag."

"Yessss, a girl after my own heart," Stiles enthused. He held up one hand for a high-five, and after a second of consideration Malia actually gave him one. That was big, even if Stiles didn't seem to realize it. "I think we should be on one team and we can put your daddy on the other so we can kick his butt. What do you think, wolf-eyes?"

"We'll have to cheat," she advised with a wise little nod. "Daddy's really good at everything, and he always wins unless he cheats to let me or Laura win. He never lets Derek win." Peter appreciated the way his daughter thought he was a superhero as much as he hated that he couldn't always be one for her.

"That's not very fair to Derek," Stiles observed, eyes dancing. "But I am very down with laser tag cheating. We'll look up how to do it on my phone as soon as he goes to order our food. We'll make a long, involved plan to bring about his downfall on one condition - you have to use your best super-villain laugh once we put the plan in action. Deal?"

Another moment of consideration, and then Malia grinned up at Stiles as she bounced on the balls of her feet. "Deal. Do you have a pencil so we can write our plan on napkins? You aren't allowed to look at the napkins, daddy," she added quickly in her best stern voice. "Because it our plan, me and Stiles."

"I won't steal your napkins to plan a counter-attack. Though I should point out that cheating is wrong." Stiles looked at him, and Peter knew that his fake-boyfriend had again noted that Peter didn't actually say it. Peter directed a wolfish smile his way - he loved how Stiles just laughed instead of judging his nature or how he was parenting Malia. "I think we've been standing in this parking lot long enough, don't you? I would like to see the inside sometime today."

Stiles and Malia rolled their eyes in concert, which was... well. It was certainly something. It was rare for Malia to bond with anyone who wasn't a family member; Stiles' bribe seemed to have worked wonders. "It's not even noon yet," Stiles griped playfully. "We still have all afternoon to stuff our faces and play some arcade games before we play laser tag."

"Yeah daddy. It's not even noon." Malia grinned, stuck her tongue out, and _grabbed Stiles' hand_. His daughter, the most wary and suspicious child he had ever met in person, had just latched on to Stiles' hand like they had known each other for years. It had taken days and an afternoon of watching him coddle wolf puppies before she would hold hands with Derek or let him hug her. Laura was still only allowed to hold Malia's hand when she was helping her over or around some obstacle.

Yet there she was, palm tucked against Stiles' like it was nothing. If he weren't so shocked Peter would probably be fighting tears, and there was a definite ball of emotions lodged in his throat. Malia had to poke him meaningfully before he shook it off and took her other hand. Sandwiched between them, his daughter bounced as they headed for the entrance, hands swinging and bringing Peter and Stiles' arms along for the ride.

Stiles was a rare and magical creature, Peter decided. Once Stiles' long, involved plan for fooling his father was over, Peter would have to ask him out for a real date.

~.~.~

"Your daughter is the cutest fucking thing I've ever seen and I'm stealing her," Stiles announced as he plopped down on the chair next to Peter's. "I'm gonna wrap her up in blankets and give her hot chocolate and protect her from the world. You can come visit and watch movies on Saturdays." They were supposed to be dating, so Stiles felt pretty comfortable with reaching over to steal some of Peter's fries. His cruel fake-boyfriend, however, smacked the back of his hand when he did. "Hey!"

"I'm offended that you would only steal my daughter," Peter said while sticking his nose up a little. It was weird, how good arrogance looked on him. "Honestly Stiles. Ripping families apart that way."

"Oh fine, I'll steal you too. Do you want blankets and hot chocolate?" Stiles was unnerved by how easy it was to picture it. He could see Malia and Peter huddled together on his couch, wrapped in blankets with steaming mugs in their hands. The only part that wasn't clear was if he was snuggled against Peter's other side or if they had Malia tucked between them - he just couldn't decide which one was better. They could watch Disney movies or some shit, and it would be awesome. He hoped they wouldn't mind if he sang along.

Wow, he was way too into that little fantasy. He needed to remember this wasn't real.

"I not only want them, I insist on them," Peter said with a smug curve of his lips, like he knew Stiles was totally dreaming about them being all domestic. "And I want the good blankets, Stiles - fluffy and soft." Stiles rolled his eyes but nodded, and Peter pushed his plate in Stiles' direction. "Now you may have some of my fries."

"Ass," Stiles muttered even as he grabbed a few. "I'm not a dog for you to train."

"Boyfriends need to be trained just as much as dogs do - more even. Otherwise they fall into bad habits that annoy me and I have to punish them instead of using positive reinforcement." Peter looked at Stiles, who had choked on the word 'punishment' and arched a brow. Stiles shouldn't be as attracted to that as he was, but he blamed Peter's stupid neck and his stupid muscles and his stupid goatee. All those stupid things make it easy to find _everything_ Peter did attractive. "Are you alright, darling? Do you need me to perform mouth-to-mouth?"

Stiles choked on his fries again, which he was pretty sure was the whole purpose. Glaring, he threw what wasn't already in his mouth onto his plate. Peter just grinned at him again, then hooked one foot around Stiles' ankle. "Oh my God, are you trying to play footsie with me?" he asked in a whisper-shout, feeling a blush rise to his cheeks. He and Peter had talked about touching before their performance in front of the Sheriff so it looked more natural, but still. Footsie? "What are we, fifteen?"

"No, but there are children around Stiles. Giving you mouth-to-mouth really isn't an option, so yes. I'm going to play footsie with you." Peter told him, speaking very slowly and clearly like he thought Stiles was an idiot. "Though now that you've broken the unspoken rule and talked about it, I don't know that I want to anymore."

True to his words, Peter pulled his foot back and went back to eating his fries. Stiles watched his eyes go to the arcade, searching; he could also see the moment that Peter found Malia. Most of the arrogance melted away, leaving him softer and more approachable. It was another stupidly attractive part of him, and Stiles really had not chosen his fake-boyfriend well. Losing his heart to the guy was no part of the plan.

This was still such a bad idea for a growing number of reasons.

"I gave her another ten dollars to exchange for tokens - I had to promise she could exchange any tickets she got for prizes for me and you before she would take it, but she did. That should keep her busy until it's our turn to play laser tag. We're in the two-thirty slot."

"How's your plan to thwart my inevitable victory going?"

"Eh. We've shifted to planning a coup within our own team. New goal is to manipulate your team into shooting our guys as often as possible while avoiding direct hits ourselves. If Malia comes out of it without anyone landing a hit at all, I'm going to win enough tickets to get her one of the huge plushies at the prize counter." Peter scoffed, but there was a smile tugging at the left corner of his lips. "Are you doubting my arcade skills?"

"Stiles, those plushies cost a ridiculous amount of tickets. It would take you weeks to earn enough."

"Wow, feeling the lack of faith. If your daughter wasn't my new favorite person on the face of the planet, I would totally dump you and find a fake-boyfriend who believes I can do anything." Peter laughed, and it was a really nice sound. Ugh. Peter was just stupidly great, and it wasn't fair. Stiles was also getting upset at himself for not going along with the footsie thing.

"I do believe you like my daughter more than you like me. I'm not sure if I'm grateful or annoyed. I suppose I'll have to mix and match my emotions." Peter's attention was still on Malia, and Stiles smiled before directing his gaze that way as well.

"When we were playing the Street Fighter game she beat an older boy so bad that he cried," Stiles reported with a grin. "Then he started saying that she had cheated, and she _growled_ at him and I think he just about peed his pants. It was awesome." Malia was the greatest kid ever, and Stiles wanted to keep her. Peter should probably not ever tell him who Malia's mother was, or Stiles would absolute make her life hell. "And, by the way, if she manages the perfect zero hit game, I could win enough tickets in maybe an hour."

"Lies," Peter said immediately. He darted a look Stiles' way, one brow arched in that sexy way he had and a small smile on his lips. "If you did, I'd give you a reward of your own." Well. Now Stiles was going to have to dive in front of any and all lasers meant for Malia, because he had a feeling Peter's rewards were fucking fantastic.

"You're on."

"You don't even want to know what the reward is?"

"Nope. I live dangerously. Like an Amazon warrior." Just to prove it to both of them - and because he was really kicking himself for earlier - Stiles lightly bumped his foot against Peter's. The only visible reaction he got was the way Peter's smile got just a little bigger. Meanwhile, under the table, Peter nudged him back before hooking Stiles' ankle again and pulling him closer. Stiles felt a bit of heat in his cheeks again, but did his best to push his embarrassment away. He was a grown man, and if he wanted to play footsie in public with his fake-boyfriend, he damn well would. "Did you know that Amazons were probably a real thing? Or at least inspired by real women warriors, probably the Scythians. I think the myths about them probably happened because Greek men were butt-hurt about how there were girls who could kick their asses."

The whole time Stiles talked about stupid trivia, Peter's leg was rubbing against his while their feet bumped together. It should have felt juvenile and stupid, but just like everything else about Peter it was stupidly sexy instead. "I didn't know that, actually. Why do you?" Peter didn't sound judge-y, only interested, so Stiles decided to give him a real answer.

"I have ADHD," Stiles said with a shrug, eyes still on Malia. From what he could see, she was kicking ass and taking names in the zombie shooter game she was playing. "So doing homework has always been an adventure. Once it was stuff I needed to do online it got even better. I figured early on that getting distracted by Wikipedia was better than falling into a game or social media sites - at least I was still learning something. It got to the point in high school where sometimes I would write papers on whatever I had been reading about instead of the assigned topic."

"Really?"

"Oh yeah. My magnum opus was when I wrote a five page paper on the history of male circumcision for my economics class."

Peter burst out laughing, which might have stung a little if he hadn't also reached for Stiles hand and given it a squeeze. "What was the actual assignment?"

"... a one page essay and a graph on supply and demand." More laughter, but Stiles was pretty sure that Peter wasn't laughing at him. Instead, he seemed delighted by the whole thing, and it was such a nice change. His dad had been fondly exasperated and Scott had just sort of rolled his eyes while smiling. Peter's reaction was way better, and not just because his thumb had started to rub over Stiles' palm in a light massage. "Finstock wasn't amused."

"I'm sure. Did he read the whole thing?"

"Yeah. Made notes with a red pen and everything. I got a C and he gave me a chance to try again, so." Stiles shrugged, then jumped when he suddenly felt Peter's breath move over his ear.

"I'll bet you still graduated at the head of your class, didn't you beautiful?"

"Stop that," Stiles scolded, using his shoulder to knock Peter's hard enough to push him away. "I'm not... but I did. Lydia was ahead of me, but only because she stopped deliberately acting like an airhead. Kind of mad at her for that, but also super proud of her because for a long time she pretty much only cared about being popular and keeping her boyfriend, Jack-ass, so they could reign supreme over the social elite with an iron fist. It was a whole thing."

"High school appears to have gotten far more interesting than it was when I graduated."

"Yeah, well. You know us kooky millennials."

"Thank God," Peter said with exaggerated relief, making Stiles blink up at him. "You're not part of Generation Z. Malia was concerned I, an ancient sage, had no business dating a fresh-faced young man." Stiles snorted, because Peter looked fan-fucking-tastic and nowhere near the age that he probably was. "A millennial I can do."

"Oh, I bet you can." Peter arched a brow, then got that cocky, arrogant, stupid sexy look on his face again. Stiles blushed but refused to look away, because yeah. Peter wasn't the only one who could throw out the sexual innuendos. He could totally do that, challenge accepted, no problem. Their Mexican standoff lasted for a few moments longer, and then Peter broke.

Well, he leaned forward and pressed a kiss to Stiles' temple that kind of made Stiles melt into a puddle of goo in his chair, so. Peter might have won after all.

"I wasn't the valedictorian either," Peter confided, dragging Stiles' chair closer so he could drape his arm over the back. "I was in the top two percent, and my older sister was terribly disappointed, which is why I did it." Peter smiled a shark's smile, eyes back on Malia and his fingers brushing over Stiles' shoulders. "She was always the golden child, you see. Teachers mentioned her, my parents idealized her, everyone loved her... it was unbearable. Talia pushed me to be just as good as she was... and that wasn't what I wanted. I didn't want to be her. So I didn't live up to my full potential, then went all the way across the country to go to college in Connecticut. My sister went to UC Berkeley, my parents went to UC Berkeley, my grandfather on my mother's side and both grandparents on my father's side went to UC Berkeley, et cetera, et cetera and so on down the line. For me to go to Yale was very nearly sacrilege."

"You went to _Yale_?" Stiles asked, feeling his jaw drop without him meaning it to. His fake-boyfriend was not only more attractive than Stiles by a ridiculous amount, he was also a Yale graduate. Holy shit. Stiles was out of even his fake league.

Peter looked over at him and grinned, then shrugged - he had the most elegant shrug ever, and Stiles wondered if Peter had spent hours practicing that sort of thing. He probably had. He'd probably looked up videos on like, lords and kings and stuff and practiced how to move like them. The idea that it was just natural was just too much. Stiles would have to break up with him on principle at that point.

"Yale Law School. I got a very nice scholarship package. My parents refused to contribute because it wasn't UC Berkeley, but I didn't care. I just wanted to be as far away as I could - if taking out a loan was the price to do it, I was more than happy to pay."

His fake-boyfriend was a lawyer who had gone to Yale, and Stiles could not come up with a scenario where he could land the guy for real. Their 'how we met' story needed to be bananas, otherwise no one was going to buy it. It also made a lot of other things snap into place. Even with scholarships, Peter had probably buried himself in loans to pay for a school like that. If he'd hit a rough patch, no wonder he needed money bad enough to agree to date Stiles. Stiles, who definitely was not good enough for Peter.

"I get wanting to be away," he said instead of showing off his new swimming pool of anxiety. "I thought it was what I wanted too. Then I got to Virginia and it just sort of sucked to be so far away. Your parents and sister sound like complete tools though, and my dad is pretty great." He was now, anyway. Ever since he'd pulled himself out of the bottle too late for Stiles to need any truly active parenting, the Sheriff had been a really good dad. "So... you're a lawyer then? I don’t really get why that would make your parents mad."

"Oh no. I hated it," Peter told him with another wolfish grin. "So I changed my field of study. I switched to the Department of Classics. I could hear my parents screaming and ripping their hair out even all the way in Connecticut. Talia actually came to try and talk sense into me - if I wasn't going to follow tradition, the least I could do was study something respectable. I didn't listen, and now I have a Ph.D. in a field that I have never actually worked in," Peter said, sounding very cheerful about it.

Yeah, Peter's educational history explained so, so much.

"Sooo... why didn't you know about Amazons?"

"I was more interested in the Romans," Peter told him as he craned his neck to keep Malia in sight. God, the things Stiles wanted to do to that neck. It was sooo unfair of Peter to show it off like that and expect Stiles not to mark it up. "Besides, I'm a bit older than you, darling. With all the myths surrounding them, I don't know that many serious academics believed the Amazons were real when I was in school."

"Good point." Stiles was itching to ask all kinds of questions, but most of them would probably be considered rude or maybe even 'wildly inappropriate' by Scott's standards. Stiles was fine being on the 'rude' section of Scott's scale, because his best friend was too good for this world, but 'wildly inappropriate' was a bit much even for him. So Stiles bit all the questions back, then nudged Peter's side. "If we go on a date by ourselves, we can talk more about it. Right now, I have to go show your daughter how to rock out while playing skee-ball."

"I think I'd like to see that," Peter said, nudging him back. Just like that, he untangled his legs from Stiles and stood, fingers brushing over Stiles' shoulders as he went. "Come on. I can probably beat both of you. I'm really good at everything, you know." The look he shot Stiles was really unfair to use in public, because his dick was suddenly on-board to party and there were little kids around. He had to bite his lower lip hard and think about that one time he'd accidentally walked in on Scott doing the do with his left hand - it always killed any sexy vibes Stiles was feeling.

Peter knew exactly what he'd done, at least if the way he strutted off meant anything. Stiles took a little while to follow, but once he was on his feet he was quick to catch up. Even if his fake-boyfriend was out of his league, Stiles still grabbed his hand when they drew even. He was totally taking advantage of this for as long as he could. This fake-relationship with Peter was the best bad idea he had ever had.

Stiles absolutely crushed Peter at skee-ball, which made Malia cheer and caused Peter to narrow his eyes in a pretty terrifying glare. Terrifying, but also hot enough that Stiles had to think about Scott again. With a bit of coaching from him, Malia beat her dad too, at which point Peter lifted her up onto his shoulders in celebration. Stiles maybe snapped a picture of her with her fists raised in the air, a smile of glee on her face while Peter grinned up at her like she was his everything.

Yeah, a guy who was a good dad was _totally_ Stiles' kink.

Despite his best efforts - which included a run-and-dive that was going to leave a hell of a bruise - Malia got hit five times during their game of laser tag. That was still really fucking good, especially compared to Peter's fifteen and Stiles' whopping forty-seven.

When Peter tried to tease him, Stiles pointed out that he had taken most of them while defending his daughter. That prompted another kiss on the temple, and seriously why did they make him melt more than a kiss on the lips from most people? He also got a hug from Malia, which was super cool. Peter had looked floored by the gesture, which meant Stiles was totally rocking this whole 'dating a guy with a kid' thing.

An hour after their game of laser tag ended, they headed out. Malia had two of the medium sized plushies in her arms, because she had done really good at laser tag even if she hadn't gotten a perfect score. Also, she couldn't decide between the leopard or the raccoon (both of which looked inspired by Lisa Frank) and Stiles was a complete pushover. Peter was wearing a neon pink rubber bracelet with the words 'Evil Geniuses' on it; Stiles had a matching one in bright blue. Malia had ‘purchased’ them with her own tickets and insisted her dad get the pink one.

Stiles also left with two new dates in his phone. The first was with Peter for Sunday night, and Peter had insisted on planning it. Then on Monday he would be taking Peter and Malia to a 'grownup' restaurant to eat venison; Malia had been adamant that she was still going to wear jeans and sneakers. They might see each other again on Wednesday, and then Thursday was the Main Event - dinner with the Sheriff, Melissa and Scott.

He knew that he was totally in danger of falling in love with Peter and Malia, and as he waved goodbye he decided that that was okay. Peter was so far out of his league and Malia was the cutest thing in the universe, but that was fine.

Stiles was good with plans - he was fucking great with plans. He could totally come up with one that would make Peter want to date him for real. Figuring it out in between tweaking his plan to fool the Sheriff might be tricky, but he knew that he needed one. He couldn't just _ask_ Peter out - that would be like simply walking into Mordor.

No, he needed a plan and maybe an accomplice. It was time to call in reinforcements; it was time to drag his best friend into this mess with him. Scott would totally be down for providing Stiles some backup.

After all, Scott loved his plans.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Laser tag is the best, and everyone should play it at least once.
> 
> I still have a super-lame [Tumblr](http://tahlreth.tumblr.com) if you wanna come check it out, say hi if you feel like it. :'D
> 
> Thanks again for reading, and maybe leave a comment on your way out if you liked it? <3


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This took way too long to put up, sorry! Also, there's gonna be more chapters than I anticipated, so... there's that. XD
> 
> Comments make me smile and keep me going, so maybe leave one if you like it? :'D

Planning a date that would meet Stiles' expectations turned out to be a rather difficult and daunting task. None of his usual fall-backs would do, not when his fake boyfriend was under the impression that he was poor. Hell, Stiles thought he was poor enough to need to be _paid_ to go through with this ridiculous and amusing ruse. So taking Stiles out for a fancy dinner would only alarm the man, and since Peter's abode would never pass for humble it wasn't like he could invite Stiles over to eat either. He had tried to explain his dilemma to Cora over the phone, but she had just laughed and laughed and laughed.

At least Derek had tried to help after the required eye-rolling and judgment via eyebrows had been delivered. His nephew wasn't the most romantic person on the planet, but some of his ideas had merit. The ice skating rink where Derek's friend Boyd worked had almost been the right fit. If only the place hadn't been in town it would have been perfect and he and Stiles probably would have had a wonderful time. But they were still trying to hide from Stiles' father and that made things just a little tricky. There weren't any other ice skating rinks in the surrounding towns. There wasn't even a regular skating rink, which would have been an acceptable substitute. So it had been back to the drawing board until Talia of all people came up with a solution.

His 'relationship' was now Hale family business, and he knew they were all laughing at him.

It was hard to be grateful, but he did try. Going bowling wasn't exactly Peter's speed, but it probably wouldn't kill him. And Stiles had reacted with great enthusiasm to the idea when they talked about it over the phone, so he thought he might even enjoy the experience. It wasn't until he was halfway to the place that Peter realized the giant flaw in his plan. He was going to have to _rent shoes that other people had worn_. There was no way he could buy a pair all his own in front of Stiles, and he hadn't thought far enough ahead to get a pair and beat them up so they looked old enough to fit the facade of his supposed poverty. Shoes that had been on someone else's feet would have to go on his own that evening, and there was something deeply unsettling about that. He just thought it was weird, and if that made him a snob then so be it.

A lot of his hesitation faded away when he saw the way Stiles was absolutely beaming when they met in the parking lot He could do this for the man he was hoping would date him for real once this nonsense was over. He could wear other people's shoes.

"I haven't been bowling in forever!" Stiles enthused instead of greeting him like a normal person. There wasn't an ounce of hesitation in the way he drew Peter into a hug, and it felt almost as natural as breathing to deliver a quick kiss before they separated. It was a shame the way Stiles blushed only a little and for just a few seconds. He would have to up his game if he wanted his fake boyfriend to keep changing colors, which he absolutely did. "This was such a great idea."

"My sister's," Peter said, doing his best to keep a sour twist out of his voice. Acknowledging Talia's contribution to his date was a bitter pill to swallow. At least Derek had looked sympathetic and even given him a clap on the shoulder in solidarity at the way their family _meddled_. "She and her husband used to go when they were sneaking around behind our parents' backs." He smiled at the memory and shook his head. "They hated him, you see - he wasn't good enough to be dating their darling daughter. It was the only time their golden child defied them. He's a nice enough man, so I approve fully of her youthful rebellion."

While he spoke, he wrapped an arm snugly around Stiles' waist to draw him in close. _That_ was enough to put a blush high on those mole-dotted cheeks, something he probably shouldn't be as smug about as he was. Despite the blush and the hissed 'Peter!', Stiles didn't pull away. Peter flattered himself to think that the younger man plastered himself more firmly against Peter's side. It was a nice way to walk, really. He especially liked the way other people stared - they were likely jealous of the beautiful man now laughing against his neck.

"I can feel you smirking, you ass," Stiles said after a moment. He still sounded more amused than angry though, so Peter didn't worry about the word choice. "This isn't even a real date and you aren't getting laid later - bring the smug down a notch or two my dude."

"Stiles, sweetheart, if I toned down the smug even a little I don't think you'd like me even half as much."

"That is sooooo not the point dude."

"If you don't stop calling me that, I'm going to have to resort to drastic measures."

"Like what?"

Their conversation had carried them to the door, and Peter braced himself for the ordeal to come. Shoe rental didn't have to be traumatic, not with Stiles at his side. He just needed to look on the positive side of things. "Maybe I'll bring something full of cheese and grease to Thanksgiving dinner."

"You _wouldn't_."

"Keep pressing me and find out"

"Evil," Stiles said in a hiss. "I call everyone dude!"

"I refuse to be lumped in with 'everyone'," Peter said as loftily as he could manage. "I am so much better than anyone else Stiles, so I demand a nickname that is reflective of my status." He couldn't hear Stiles' reply over the low din that washed over them when he opened the door, but he was fairly certain it was insulting. It only made him smile and give his date an affectionate squeeze, which had Stiles muttering against his neck again. A few people were staring in a less than friendly matter, so Peter sighed and put a little more space between them. Stiles immediately began pouting and Peter had to wonder if he knew how delicious he looked while wearing the expression.

"You ready to get your ass kicked?" Stiles' grin was downright giddy; Peter almost kissed him again. "I haven't been in a while, but I used to be really good. Don't you roll your eyes at me, Peter. You saw my skee-ball skills, didn't you? This is basically the same game, only with big pins to aim at instead of little holes."

"I'd rather aim for holes myself."

"I knew you were going to say that," Stiles said, pushing at his shoulder. "For an old man you're kind of immature."

"Excuse me?" Peter had watched grown men quail with fright under the force of his glare. It had won him many an argument, pissed off his sister on a regular basis, and had kept his nieces and nephew in line since they were squalling infants. Stiles only rolled his eyes with a snort, then went so far as to reach up and flick Peter's nose. He snorted and shook his head, then grabbed for the offending finger. "I do believe you have a death wish darling."

"I believe _you_ have too many wrinkles to deny your old man status."

"I ought to spank you." Stiles' face turned pink then red; his blush quickly traveled up to the tips of his ears and then down the slender length of his pale throat. Peter wanted to taste that flush, wanted to sink his teeth into pale flesh and leave his mark behind... but for the moment he settled for pressing a kiss to Stiles' temple. His boy seemed to like that - he always melted at the gesture. Now was no exception, though he also turned slightly to hide his face in Peter's shoulder.

"Stop saying things like that in public."

"Yes dear."

"Don't you 'yes dear' me either you ass."

"Of course not dear."

"Peter if you don't--"

"Stiles darling, do stop flirting with me and tell the nice lady what size shoe you need. I'll take an eleven and a half please - twelve if you don't have half-sizes." God, people who handed off second-hand shoes should not smile so brightly and be so polite. It should be a dirty old man behind the counter, one who asked if you wanted to see what he had under his coat and who leered at everyone he came across. A lovely young woman who looked barely out of high school was far too good to peddle shoes that had already been worn, but everyone had to make a living.

He was going to have to put the dingy, well-worn shoes that she put on the counter onto his feet. Only a thin layer of sock would protect him from the ghost of someone else's foot. Just looking at the things was almost enough to make him break out in hives. He glared at them while Stiles waited for his own shoes, but they were just as immune as his date for the evening. 

Peter should have worn thicker socks.

A sharp elbow to the side was enough to break the horror of the moment. The young woman was now giggling at him which was so out of place for a second-hand spreader of athlete's foot. Stiles, shoes in hand, jabbed at his side again, but this time Peter was able to fend him off with his own elbow.

"Hey. Grab your shoes and let's go. We've got lane seven - lucky seven, which is good for you, shnookums." The face he made at the revolting nickname must have been a good one, because Stiles grinned while the young woman giggled some more. "You don't like 'dude', so I'm gonna improvise... baby cakes."

"No."

"Oh yes. Now come on, honey bear, I wanna kick your ass at bowling. May the seven bring you luck because you're going to need it!"

Stiles' fingers linked with his own, which was the only reason he found the strength to grab his own shoes. They were ugly and awful, but he was going to wear them. He would wear them and spend the rest of his date putting Stiles in his place.

After all, how hard could bowling be?

Pretty damn difficult, as he discovered two games and an hour later. He wasn't terrible, exactly, but according to Stiles his form was downright awful. Still, if he had been bowling with anyone else he would have looked proficient enough, but Stiles was good. Fantastic even, impressive enough that he had been approached by two different men who asked if he wanted to join their league. His grin both times was enough to brighten the whole bowling alley, and Peter had slung a possessive arm around his date's waist when he saw other people appreciating it.

He didn't blame them - Stiles was beautiful, but Stiles was also _his_. Thankfully Stiles didn't seem offended by it and even leaned into Peter's side when it happened. Even better, when Stiles saw anyone staring at Peter he would plaster himself to Peter's back and start whispering in his ear about how to improve his form. They were both possessive bastards it seemed, and Peter had absolutely zero problems with that.

Part of him wanted to take Stiles to a club where they could dance with other people to get each other riled before they came back together and marked each other up.

All in all it was a wonderful evening, rented shoes and all. He was still relieved when he got to take them off and return them, and he promised himself that he would buy his own pair soon. Malia would love bowling, especially if Stiles was there to teach her how to do it right. Peter could see it - his daughter with her very serious 'I'm concentrating' face on while Stiles guided her arm through the motion. It should have been a red flag, how easy it was to picture Stiles becoming a permanent part of their lives... but Peter didn't want to ruin the dream with reality.

After Thanksgiving, Stiles would have no reason to continue the ruse. Even if he agreed to date Peter for real, the fact was that Stiles lived in Virginia. There was no way he was uprooting Malia again, and he didn't know if Stiles would ever be able to return to Beacon Hills as a member of the FBI - it wasn't exactly a hub for federal government-run law enforcement agencies. Long-distance relationships were hard; not impossible, but difficult to maintain. He would try for Stiles, and for Malia, but... he wasn't sure how much of a future they could have.

"You've got your grumpy face on." A chin dug into his shoulder while toned arms slipped around his waist. "We don't have to go to the tavern if you don't want to. You probably wanna go home and sulk over your crushing defeat." Peter snorted, then leaned back against Stiles. He kept forgetting that Stiles was a little taller than he was, and discovering that Stiles possessed the lithe muscles of a swimmer or a runner had been a delight. It was nice to be held - it wasn't something he allowed to happen often. "We can say goodnight now if you want."

"What I want is a beer and some greasy tavern food. And I do not have a grumpy face. Malia has a grumpy face and Derek definitely does, but I certainly don't."

"Uh, yeah you do poopsie bear. A very scowl-y grumpy face that makes me think you're like, half a second away from snarling at someone, and it was totally all over your face just now."

"... did you just call me poopsie bear?"

"Dude is sounding pretty fucking good now, isn't it?"

"I really will take you over my knee."

" _Peter_! Will you stop _saying_ that?" Despite the way Stiles hissed the words in an embarrassed demand, Peter felt the way his arms tightened, felt the way his breath stuttered a little. If they ever became a real couple - the kind who had 'the sex' as Stiles called it - he would absolutely have to explore that. For now he let it go and stepped out of Stiles' hold.

"I suppose I can do that for you, darling. Are we taking my car or your jeep to the bar?" Getting into that jeep would require even more bravery as putting on borrowed shoes, but he would do it. He would climb into that death trap and let Stiles drive them down the street. If it didn't end horribly, he might even consider Stiles' suggestion that they all arrive for Thanksgiving dinner together. Peter could use the trip to judge if it really was safe enough to let Malia ride in it, and he could also get an idea of which parts needed to be replaced.

Even if Stiles refused to try dating for real, Peter was absolutely going to get the jeep looked at. It was very likely that his mechanic would have to gut the thing in order to get it running the way it should. He would steal it from Stiles' driveway if he had to. Peter wanted Stiles to be safe when he drove, not a breath away from getting into some kind of horrible accident because his jeep kicked the bucket halfway to his destination.

"If I drive I'll be less tempted to get one of those fruity drinks that hits you like a ton of bricks, so let's take my baby. And I see that judgey expression you get whenever you look at him, by the way. Roscoe has never let me down and I've had him for years. So stop with the judging, schmoopsie pie."

"You aren't going to stop even if I let you call me dude, are you?" It was hard to tell if Stiles' grin was prompted by the thought of all the awful nicknames he was going to call him or if he just liked the way Peter was heading for the passenger's seat of 'Roscoe' without a single protest. "And we're both only having one beer. We've both got to drive home, after all. No fruity drinks allowed."

"Bossy."

"You like it."

"Shut up."

"You still haven't told me what to bring to your father's, by the way. I'm not coming empty-handed," he added, stalling Stiles' protest. "It would be rude."

There was a furrow between Stiles' brow as he put the jeep into gear. It was begging to be smoothed out by Peter's thumb; if they had been dating for real, he would allow himself the intimate gesture without hesitation. As it was, he just had to hope Stiles would be able to soothe himself.

"I guess you could do a dessert? Not pumpkin pie - Melissa and I have a pumpkin pie bake-off every year - but some other kind would be fine. Oh, and if you don't vote for my pie then I'll call you poopsie bear exclusively for the rest of our lives."

It was less of a threat than Stiles thought it was, but Peter didn't want to be the one to point that out. "Would a pudding pie of some sort be acceptable? Malia could help me make it, which I know she would enjoy."

"Then a pudding pie sounds absolutely perfect."

They fell into a comfortable silence for the rest of the drive. The tavern recommended by the poor girl handing out used shoes wasn't too far away. Apparently they had great food and cheap drinks, which Peter could appreciate since Stiles had already insisted he was paying. It was sweet how earnest he was about not making Peter's supposed money troubles any worse. Unnecessary, but sweet. He was used to doing the courting and spending his money, not the other way around. Maybe it wasn't real, but all the steps were the same. He found himself feeling quite wooed.

Roscoe didn't explode on the way to the tavern, which was a surprising development. He didn't mention that to Stiles though. There had to be some kind of sentiment at work for Stiles to still be holding onto it. Peter didn't want to go digging at any old wounds Stiles might have.

The tavern itself wasn't anything special. Dim lighting, a bored bartender, a few drunks slumped over on bar stools and a small crowd around both pool tables. Peter settled his hand low on Stiles' back, feeling a little possessive again, and guided him to the bar. He felt like preening when the younger man didn't pull away. Emboldened, when they got there he boxed Stiles in against it, resting an arm on the smooth surface on either side of Stiles' body. It wasn't until he ran his nose along the side of Stiles' throat that he got an elbow to the gut.

Since the back of Stiles' neck was turning a delicious shade of pink, Peter thought it was worth it.

"Stop being creepy and give the bartender your order, puddin' pop."

"Whatever's on tap for me. And..." Peter paused to squint at the menu on the wall, leaning into Stiles a little as he did. "A bacon cheeseburger with a side of cheese fries."

"You're going to give yourself a heart attack. That's too much cheese - sure you don't want regular fries instead?"

"You can police my diet after you put a ring on it." The drunk to their left snorted into his glass, and Stiles blushed a little deeper. "Until then I'll eat as much cheese as I want darling." He emphasized the words by brushing a kiss to Stiles' temple. Stiles melted but also elbowed him again, so Peter chuckled against the side of his neck and pulled away. "I'll go grab us a table."

Being too near the pool tables would just be asking for trouble, so Peter found a table as close to being in the opposite corner of the room as he could. Waiting for Stiles was boring, so he used the time to take a snapshot of the place on his phone. Derek had been supportive without openly mocking him, so a reward was in order. 'Being wined and dined', he informed his nephew before sending the image along. Then he shot a text to Laura to let her know he would be out longer than he had expected.

"Here you go, love muffin. Our food'll be out in a bit." Peter rolled his eyes but accepted the glass and pulled out the chair next to him. Stiles didn't even hesitate before dropping into it, taking a swig from his bottle of beer. He even slung an arm over the back of Peter's chair, and dammit he was too old and experienced to feel giddy over that. "Did you let the babysitter know you'd be late?"

"Yes. Laura advises we spend the money to get condoms from a store instead of the vending machine in the men's room."

"Of course! Only the best for my poopsie doodle. I'd even splurge on the good lube for you."

"How very romantic."

Stiles winked at him, and Peter wished he could pull him in for a long, sloppy make-out session. Peter wanted to begin taking him apart, wanted to leave him panting and whining in need. If they weren't still in the 'fake' part of a relationship, Peter wouldn't have stopped until they were kicked out of the bar for indecent exposure.

They had only negotiated simple, single kisses however. A pity, but Peter would abide by the rules they had decided on.

"Malia is probably in bed, right?" Stiles sounded almost wistful, like he hoped for a negative answer. "I mean, it's a school night and all--"

"She's actually being tutored right now. There were a few... incidents when I got her back to Beacon Hills. The school determined it would be for the best to keep her out of school until she was more settled. The reasoning for it was bullshit - she is _not_ a danger to the school - but having her taught at home right now is for the best. I don't miss having her come home in tears, I'll tell you that much."

Peter's jaw was tight and he was white-knuckling his glass. He tried to swallow his rage along with a sip of his beer, but it didn't work very well. Not when he remembered the way his daughter had regularly sobbed in his arms after school. The other children hadn't been kind, the school hadn't been helpful, and Malia could only be pushed so far. The little bastard whose eye she had blackened deserved it in his opinion, but no one had asked. Even if it wasn't fair, both he and Malia had been relieved when they were told she didn't have to go back.

Fingers covered his, jerking Peter out of his thoughts. Stiles looked furious, and it caused his stomach to swoop - not only did it make him look hot, he was also angry on behalf of _Malia_. It was a reminder that Stiles was absolutely worth an attempt at a long distance relationship. Hell, he would probably move for the beautiful man sitting next to him. Not right away, not until he was convinced they had a future, but he would do it.

He had planned to wait for a day or two, but after he voted for Stiles' pumpkin pie to win the bake-off was the perfect time to tell Stiles they should date for real.

"Why the fuck would they think she's a danger? She cute as a button, and yeah she made that one kid cry at the arcade but he definitely deserved it, little fucker. He was the one who couldn't handle losing to a girl and called her a cheater. And anyway she only growled at him, so he was overreacting. The point is that Malia is a sweet, precious cinnamon roll that I'm still going to steal and wrap up in blankets. What the hell is going on at that school? I"m going to call-- no, I'll have my dad _visit_ and he can figure out what the fuck--" Stiles hummed against Peter's lips, melting into the kiss.

It wasn't that he wanted Stiles to shut up - he could have listened to a rant like that for hours. But Stiles might not know how absolutely, absurdly fond Peter was of him in that moment. That was an unacceptable state of affairs, so Peter _had_ to kiss him. There was no other choice, at least not one that was acceptable in public.

Besides, blowjobs hadn't been put on the table as an option between them so a kiss it was.

Peter had never claimed to be good at resisting temptation, and Stiles was temptation wrapped in a beautiful package. So when Stiles' fingers twisted in the hair at the nape of Peter's neck, he opened his mouth and pressed forward. His tongue dipped past Stiles' lips which opened for him perfectly. It made him moan, and it was that sound hitting his ears that brought him back to reality. Even if Stiles wasn't protesting, he had crossed a boundary; Stiles had always been so careful to respect his and Malia's.

So even if he didn't want to, he eased back. He couldn't bring himself to move away too far, however, so he felt Stiles' breath on his lips when he spoke. "Wasn't expecting that to be the reaction, shnookums, but I am so not complaining. If I offered to break the principal's fingers--" Peter huffed out a laugh before capturing Stiles' lips again. He kept his tongue to himself this time, but the kiss was still different than usual for them. Stiles' lips were parted, encouraging Peter's to follow suit; when he did, Stiles gave a soft sound of encouragement into his mouth. His cheek was soft against Peter's fingertips, and his fingers stayed twisted in Peter's hair. The soft tugs he gave the locks helped show Peter just how he wanted to be kissed, and the moment was more perfect that he had expected. Maybe he should--

The 'thud' of plates hitting the table harder than they needed to had the pair of them jerking away from each other. Peter looked up into the face of an extremely unimpressed twenty-something who popped his gum at them. "You want me to scrape the onions off your burgers?"

"No thank you," Stiles squeaked, looking so adorably embarrassed that Peter wasn't even angry at the interruption anymore.

"How 'bout ketchup? You gonna need some of that?" Another pop of the gum, and Peter couldn't help but lean forward to smother a laugh in Stiles' throat. The whole night had been ridiculous from the rented shoes all the way to this moment, and Peter hadn't had so much fun on a date since he was a twenty-something himself.

"Please excuse my sweetie-schmoopsie bear," Stiles returned. Peter _giggled_ , which should have been mortifying. He was an adult man, one who'd had several relationships and even more sex. He had a daughter, a bank account with more zeros than he knew what to do with, and he was giggling like a grade school girl. "He's had a long night. Ketchup would be awesome, but give me a full bottle, okay, because these fries are not curly and I don't have a chocolate milkshake, so I'm gonna need a lot of ketchup to get through them. No offence."

He was going to marry this man.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I have a [tumblr](http://tahlreth.tumblr.com) where I mostly reblog things without tagging. You can say hi or shoot me a prompt if'n ya want. <3


End file.
